So many of us walk around letting fly with “errors.” We could do better, but we’re so slovenly, so rushed amid the hurly-burly of modern life, so imprinted by the “let it all hang out” ethos of the sixties, that we don’t bother to observe the “rules” of “correct” grammar.

To a linguist, if I may share, these “rules” occupy the exact same place as the notion of astrology, alchemy, and medicine being based on the four humors. The “rules” make no logical sense in terms of the history of our language, or what languages around the world are like.

Nota bene: linguists savor articulateness in speech and fine composition in writing as much as anyone else. Our position is not—I repeat, not—that we should chuck standards of graceful composition. All of us are agreed that there is usefulness in a standard variety of a language, whose artful and effective usage requires tutelage. No argument there.

The argument is about what constitutes artful and effective usage. Quite a few notions that get around out there have nothing to do with grace or clarity, and are just based on misconceptions about how languages work.

—John McWhorter
—from Our Magnificent Bastard Tongue: The Untold Story of English

“Russian futurist book art from 1910 to 1915 combines dynamic lithographs with the sounds of zaum poetry. This interactive exemplifies the interplay of word-image-sound through audio recordings, Russian transliterations, and English translations of 10 poems, presented directly within the pages of the artist’s books.” → Explodity

Today in 1951, cartoonist and artist John Callahan is born in Portland, Oregon, USA. A quadriplegic since a car accident at 21, Callahan drew his rough, dark, occasionally macabre, taboo-busting and very funny cartoons by holding a pen between his two hands. See also: Callahan’s NYT Obit and the Independent’s obit, Prophet of bad taste. Just a few months ago, there were reports that Gus Van Sant and Joaquin Phoenix had a Callahan biopic in development.

“We sought to capture people facing a difficult situation, to make a portrait of humans in doubt. We’ve all seen actors playing doubt in fiction films, but we have few true images of the feeling in documentaries. To make them, we decided to put people in a situation powerful enough not to need any classic narrative framework. A high dive seemed like the perfect scenario.” → Ten Meter Tower